Toxin
by anichka53
Summary: I can't exactly summarize it without giving too much away, but take a glance! Read and review! Chapter 3 is up! (08.02.04)
1. Omnium rerum principia parva sunt

Title: Toxin  
  
Disclaimer: Simply borrowing...  
  
--  
  
Chapter: One - Omnium rerum principia parva sunt  
  
--  
  
A/N: Right off the bat, let me thank my wonderful beta, Lynette, who goes by Munku-JGSPTV. My apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes we might not have caught; the program I use has been acting up and isn't correcting any of those mistakes. Oh, one more thing. Each chapter title will be in Latin (if you read my other fic, you'll see that I have a fascination with this language, which so unfortunatly is no longer spoken: "Sola lingua bona est lingua mortua" - The only good language is a dead language). There will be a reference to it in the story (the English translation). If you want, you can guess what it means, or simply read the definition in next chapter's A/N. Also, most of my names have meanings behind them. If you're interested, please ask. I've rambled on long enough. Enjoy! and please review!  
  
--  
  
"Harry, Ron! You've got to wake up! You're going to be late!" Hermione's yells flew through the spacious rooms of the still somewhat bland house.  
  
The trio had graduated from Hogwarts a little over three years ago. As soon as they had left Hogwarts, they purchased a little house in Hogsmeade. Harry began Auror training, Ron followed his father's footsteps and took a job in the Ministry of Magic, albeit in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Hermione took over Professor Flitwick's position of Charms professor at Hogwarts.  
  
Just one month ago, Harry finally completed Auror training. After an annual visit to the Dursley's which lasted a mere fortnight and a small vacation to Northern Europe where, much to Ron's dismay, they had Viktor Krum as a tour guide, their mundane lives resumed.  
  
"Harry! It's your first day! Do you really want to be late?" Hermione shrieked. "And Ron! Get your arse up before I have to call your father to get you to work! Do you know how embarassed he must be?"  
  
Harry turned over in bed and threw a pillow over his head. Less than a minute later, Hermione, her hair still wet from her early morning shower, charged in.  
  
"Evanesco!" she bellowed. The downy pillow that had previously shielded Harry's ears from his best friend's cries vanished into thin air.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry whined. "Go bug Ron."  
  
Hermione released an indignant "hmph!" and stormed out of the room, slamming a frating green door which Harry had long since wished to repaint, but hadn't really ever gotten around to.  
  
Five minutes later, a furious Hermione walked through Harry's door once more.  
  
"Harry, you have five seconds to get your arse out of that bed!" she warned.  
  
"Or what?" Harry replied groggily.  
  
"5.... 4.... 3.... 2.... 1.... Rictusempra!"  
  
Harry started giggling uncontrollably.  
  
"Her... mione... I'm... up!... stop... this... now!" Harry managed to splutter.  
  
Hermione muttered the counter spell and stood in the doorway until Harry climbed out of bed. Harry's eyes were barely open and his hair, if possible, was even more unruly than ever before.  
  
"How have you not yet freezed to death, I do not know," Hermione muttered under her breath, referring to Harry's only garb being a pair of black boxers and two very different socks, as she left the room for the second time that morning.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes in a childish manner then dragged his feet to the bathroom. He turned on the shower, removed a green and yellow striped sock, took of his boxers, and stepped into the chilly water. It took him a few moments to register that he was still wearing a black and silver polka- dotted sock on his left foot. Groaning, he leaned down and removed it. Half an hour later, he rushed down to the breakfast Hermione had prepared; bacon and eggs.  
  
"Ron still not up?" Harry asked and frustrated Hermione.  
  
"Does it look like he's up?" she snapped.  
  
Harry grabbed a piece of toast and ran back upstairs. He opened Ron's door to find the red head sprawled out on the floor in a tangle of sheets. Harry couldn't hold back a fit of laughter. Once he had regained his composure however, he moved to Ron's bathroom. Trying very hard to avoid tripping over one of the many piles of dirty clothes, he turned on the water.  
  
"Mobiliaqua," he muttered, directing his wand at the flowing liquid. Harry slowly moved his wand and the water followed on the same path. Concentrating, Harry walked out of the bathroom, nearly tripping on a tie, and approached the lightly snoring man.  
  
Harry jerked his wand and laughed as the water he had been levitating poured on the previously sleeping, and now extremely wet and annoyed Ron.  
  
Ron jumped up and immediately Harry brought his hand up to his eyes.  
  
"Since when do you sleep in the nude?" Harry complained, backing away towards the door. "And Hermione complains about me..."  
  
"Everything has a small beginning," Ron said hopefully.  
  
Hermione was just leaving to walk to teach her first class of the year when a fully clothed Ron stumbled down the stairs. He saw Harry and was just about to hex him when Hermione stepped in front of him. For a moment, Harry was sure he saw Ron's eyes flicker in surprise.  
  
"Hermione, you look, erm, are you sure you should be dressing so, well, err, hot? I mean, you know what kids are like," Ron clumsly spilled out his thoughts. "I mean, err, good luck."  
  
"Harry, was that a compliment on Ron's part?" she grinned.  
  
She hugged Ron and then Harry then left. Ron stared at the closed door long after Hermione had gone. Harry couldn't really blame him. Hermione's previously uncontrollablly bushy hair had matured into gorgeous waves of milk chocolate colored strands which framed her feminine face. Her honey brown eyes seemed to release a sense of wisdom hidden beneath a stunning façade. Her cheeks were accentuated by a streak of rose color from the chilly air. Strangely, it only seemed to hit Ron at that moment.  
  
"Ron, we're gonna be late. Are you going to continue drooling over your best friend and skip breakfast or should I save you some food?" Harry jolted Ron out of his daze.  
  
"I'll have a cheese pie," Ron said stupidly.  
  
Harry gave Ron a curious look then turned back to his bacon. When they finished their food, Harry "scourgify-ed" the kitchen and two men apparated into the Ministry of Magic.  
  
They both squeezed into the elevator. After some random small talk, Harry got out on the second floor, and Ron got out five levels later. Slightly late, Harry rushed into a very busy room filled with cubicles and numerous pictures of various wizards. At the very back, a total of six wizards and witches were gathered. Five of them, including Harry, looked very anxious. The last looked very bored.  
  
"Welcome to Auror Headquarters. No doubt you are highly qualified to stand here right now. I will expect the same dedication you five have shown me in training to be apparent every single day that you come to work," a familiar face spoke eloquently.  
  
Harry looked up to meet a very round, very blue, and very erratic eye. His lips split into a grin. Although Moody didn't visibly smile, Harry could feel the pride of the slightly paranoid man. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody had returned to work for the ministry when Arthur Weasly had taken up the post of Minister of Magic at the beginning of Harry's sixth year. Five years had since passed.  
  
"If I understand correctly, none of you have previously met. Introductions are up to you," Moody growled. "You will find that your cubicle has instructions on what you will be doing today. Get to work!"  
  
Moody clunked away slowly. The newly appointed Aurors faced each other.  
  
A small man timidly introduced himself.  
  
"Hi. My name is Randus Skelin," he mumbled almost incoherently.  
  
"Hi, Guinevere Dugarmon," a pretty, black haired witch confidently stated.  
  
"Hello, I'm Ava Ortnair Rouge," a brunette with slightly overly bushy eyebrows spoke up.  
  
Harry and the last woman looked at each other. They seemed to have a little battle with their eyes as to who would speak up next. The woman's garnet colored lips parted slightly and then formed into a smile. Harry's stomach did a little flip. His hand brushed through his hair in a manner so similar to what Harry saw his father do so in Snape's memory so many years ago.  
  
"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you," Harry finally spoke, not taking his eyes off the dazzling pallid skinned woman. He could feel the Skelin, Dugarmon, and Rouge slide their eyes upward to his forehead.  
  
"No, the pleasure is all mine. Oliana Kalipso," her round, evergreen eyes stayed on Harry's emerald ones.  
  
Harry swallowed hard.  
  
"Well, we'd best get to work," Harry said, with more confidence than he felt.  
  
"Yes, you're right. Where's your desk?" she answered. Harry noted a Greek accent.  
  
"That one at the end."  
  
"Oh, mine's on the other side," she said, a trace of disappointment in her voice. "Well, I'll see you around then."  
  
"Yes, definatly," Harry replied with a boyish grin.  
  
Harry took a seat at his desk with a release of breath. His hand swept through his hair once more and then he opened a folder and started reading.  
  
Harry met up with Ron at 2 in the afternoon later the day at the Leaky Cauldron. They each ordered a firewhiskey and sat down at a table.  
  
"Well, I just found out that England's hosting the next World Cup! We've got loads and loads of work to sort out now. That idiot Bagman didn't leave any instructions after he ran. We're all at a loss about what to begin with! Can you believe it, mate?" Ron prattled.  
  
"Hold on, even with Voldemort?" Harry furrowed his forehead.  
  
Ron nodded perceptively and continued talking.  
  
At the end of Harry's seventh year, he had another encounter with Voldemort. Harry had managed to hurt enough so that he was forced to stop his attacks. Before that, attacks on muggles were quite popular and the entire war had almost gone into full-fledged mode. Harry knew why he wasn't able to kill Voldemort. The words constantly rang in his head.  
  
"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy? You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really cause pain--to enjoy it-- righteous anger won't hurt me for long..." Bellatrix LeStrange, the woman who killed Sirius, derided him. Harry did mean it, but he didn't enjoy it. He hadn't wanted to be the one. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry had never forgiven Professor Trelawney for the prophecy she had made.  
  
While Ron had been yacking on and on, a whole hour had flown by.  
  
"Aw, shit. We're going to be late, again," Harry interrupted Ron.  
  
With a loud crack that the other patrons chose to ignore, the two apparated back to the Ministry after plonking down a couple of coins. -- 


	2. Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illi...

Title: Toxin  
  
Disclaimer: Simply borrowing...  
  
Summary: The Golden Trio have graduated from Hogwarts. As an Auror, Harry meets Oliana Kalipso, a colleague. Harry falls for her, but Hermione and Ron sense that something isn't right. However, they've got problems of their own to deal with. What will happen when Harry devotes his heart to Oliana and Ron and Hermione aren't there to help him?  
  
--  
  
Chapter: Two - Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis  
  
--  
  
goldenstarz – Thank you for reviewing!  
  
A/N: The translation for the previous chapter was "Everything has a small beginning". Goldenstarz, I must say you're wrong, even if you don't believe me (. This seems to be about all I have to say for now, so enjoy the story and please review!  
  
--  
  
That evening, the three friends got together at their favorite restaurant to celebrate their return to work. It was a quaint little place; a muggle restaurant quite fittingly called Serendipity. Harry, Ron and Hermione had stumbled upon the place one stormy afternoon. In fact, they even considered it their own little Room of Requirement. The menu changed daily, each day featured another culture.  
  
As they stepped into the restaurant, a captivating smell brushed their noises. Ron turned to Harry grinning.  
  
"Smells like its Russia today."  
  
They were shown to their usual table in front of the fireplace and three filled champagne flutes were placed on the table, as well as a bottle of '85 champagne.  
  
Harry picked up his glass.  
  
"The times change, and we change with them," Harry said wisely.  
  
"Hear hear," Ron cheerfully agreed.  
  
"Do you remember our first year?" Hermione asked, smiling softly, not really expecting an answer.  
  
All three tipped their glasses and reminisced the few days when their deepest concerns lay among finishing Snape's homework and winning the Quidditch Cup.  
  
They were already in deep conversation about random nonsense when their food was brought.  
  
Harry was busy on his _blinchiki_, Ron was just about finished with his cherry-filled _pirozhki_, and Hermione was biting into her _pryniki_ when someone spotted them, or rather, spotted Harry.  
  
"Harry!" sounded a feminine voice.  
  
Harry looked up to see an acquainted face. He unconsciously noted how the dim lights reflected off her claret-colored hair. He took in the way her pale green, a color that reminded Harry of a leaf they had once used in a potion that was supposed to accelerate the heart in case it stopped, suit accentuated her bust and hips. He recognized the same garnet lips that had made his stomach flip just earlier that day.  
  
"Oliana," Harry said softly, rising to greet her. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.  
  
"What a surprise to see you here," Harry continued.  
  
"Oh, a few of my muggle friends decided to drag me out. I protested by saying I was too tired, but they persuaded me," she explained.  
  
Harry ran his tongue over his dry lips.  
  
"Oh, this is Ron and Hermione," Harry introduced his friends.  
  
"Pleasure to meet you," she said kindly.

Ron waved and Hermione nodded.  
  
"Erm, well, I'll see you tomorrow then, right?" Harry slowly lost his confidence as he felt the stares of his friends baring into his back.  
  
"Yes, yes. Definitely," she smiled.  
  
Harry watched her walk away then turned around and walked back to his table.  
  
"Seems like Harry's got himself a girlfriend," Ron teased. He was immediately silenced by a glare from Hermione.  
  
"She's just a colleague," Harry pointlessly denied the assertion.  
  
"She's very pretty," Hermione told Harry. Harry grinned as if to say "Isn't she?"  
  
They finished their desserts and the moment Harry rose to the restroom, Ron leaned toward Hermione.  
  
"I don't like her."  
  
"You felt it too?" Hermione replied sadly.  
  
Ron nodded his head.  
  
"Why do you think he fancies her?" Ron asked, somewhat foolishly.  
  
"The same reason you sleep in the nude, Ron."  
  
Ron blushed and picked up his champagne flute once more, choosing to examine it rather than think of a retort.  
  
"And don't you dare take another mickey at him," she warned in a hushed tone as Harry approached the table.  
  
"So, are we ready to go?" Harry asked.  
  
Ron stuffed another _pirozhok_ into his mouth, and nodded. Hermione sent Ron a glare.  
  
"Yes Harry. We're ready," Hermione said curtly, signalling their waiter for the check. Harry paid for dinner and they walked out of the restaurant, content and full of smiles.  
  
Harry simply couldn't get Oliana out of his mind.  
  
-  
  
"You think it worked?"  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"And it's still happening?"  
  
"Just look! Obviously!"  
  
"Good. Because I know this is right."  
  
-  
  
They apparated to the house as soon as they turned into the alley outside of Serendipity.  
  
As they walked through the hallway to the sitting area, Hermione spoke up.  
  
"You know what would look lovely here? A long mirror stretching the entire length of the hallway, about three feet in height and hung at eye level. Don't you think?" she suggested to the men.  
  
"Hermione, we've agreed. The house is yours to decorate. If we don't like something, we'll tell you," Harry assured her.  
  
"Not like we care," muttered Ron inaudibly to the female.  
  
However, Harry noticed the Ron's expression softened ever so slightly when he looked up at Hermione. Harry could even swear that he saw the corners of Ron's mouth lift and form into a misshapen grin as the red-head studied the woman while she weighed her idea. It disappeared as soon as Hermione moved. Harry released a little sigh.  
  
They moved on into the large sitting area. The walls were painted a silvery gray which matched Malfoy's eyes perfectly. However, the trio simply refused to acknowledge this factor. There were two fairly large, dark gray, cotton couches on either side of a large, white marble table. To one side was fireplace, painted the same color as the walls. To the other, several silver metal framed barstools that lined up against a white marble bar. The room seemed cold, unfriendly, and frigidity without any occupants, but once a fire was lit and a couple drinks passed around, it easily became one of the favorite rooms in the home.  
  
They took their seats on the couch and, after observing the clock on top of the mantle, Hermione pulled out her wand.  
  
"Convenus," she muttered, moving her wand in a small circle via her wrist.  
  
A few moments later, Ginny and Londelius (better known as "Deli") appeared with two large "snaps" and settled in comfortably on the carpeted floor, Luna and Neville appeared through the fireplace and arranged themselves on the couch opposite the homeowners, Fred and Angelina apparated right behind the bar, and George literally shimmered in.  
  
"Hello all," the latter said happily. "Just testing our new transportation merchandise," he explained, sitting down on one of the barstools, directly in front of Angelina.  
  
He winked at the tall black girl and turned to those sitting on the couch and floor.  
  
"Whaddya think? Conveya-Shimmer," he said proudly. "Apparate in style!"  
  
The others applauded and laughed.  
  
"Fred, Angie, drinks!" he commanded. The couple got busy preparing everyone's favorite drinks while small chit-chat developed amongst the rest.  
  
Deli, Ginny's boyfriend and fellow Quidditch player for Britain's National Team, told them about their last match.  
  
"Britain's hosting the next Quidditch match!" Ron exploded.  
  
"Oh yeah, today was the first day back at work for you three, wasn't it?" Luna piped in, taking a sip of her cognac-butterbeer. "How'd it go?" she asked.  
  
"Better than I expected," Harry answered cheerily. George raised his eyebrow and let out a loud whistle.  
  
"What's her name?" he grinned from ear to ear.  
  
"Why is it necessarily about a woman?" Harry defended himself.  
  
"Are you saying it's a man?" George laughed.  
  
"Oliana. Oliana Kalipso," Harry gave in.  
  
"Kalipso? Greek, right?" Neville asked.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. "How'd you know?"  
  
"Well, it's a bit of a long story. Heard of the Oleander flower?" Neville asked.  
  
"Oleander? Poisonous evergreen bush with red and white flowers native to the Mediterranean region?" Hermione replied for Harry.  
  
Neville nodded.  
  
"For a long time, that flower has been associated with their family. The children are always pale with red hair and dark green eyes. There are so many coincidences between the two that some swear that a wizard once transformed an Oleander flower into the first Kalipso. It's not only a physical resemblance," Neville's voice trailed off, after a nervous glance at Harry. Harry, unfortunatly, didn't notice this. He was too involved in his thoughts.  
  
Ginny, in an effort to lighten the mood, joked, "Seems Harry can never get away from red-heads, eh?"  
  
Everyone in the room laughed. The conversation quickly changed topics and before any of the large group noticed, it was past midnight.  
  
Pair by pair, they flooed back home (apparating after drinking was frowned upon) until only George was left.  
  
Ron and Hermione were in the kitchen, cleaning.  
  
George came up to Harry.  
  
"Keep an eye out okay? Be careful mate," George warned light-heartedly.  
  
Harry didn't heed much to the caution, mostly because neither he nor George were fully sober.  
  
Finally, the home was returned to its earlier, cleaner state, and all three of its tenants fell into a deep slumber.  
  
--


	3. Onus probandi

Title: Toxin  
  
Disclaimer: Simply borrowing...  
  
--  
  
Chapter: Three - Onus probandi  
  
--  
  
pirate – thanks for reviewing  
  
A/N: The translation for the previous chapter was "The times change, and we change with them". Not much on the romance plot in this chapter, but this chapter is important for many more to come, so bear with me here please. Please note that is not a slash (you'll understand later).  
  
--  
  
Harry was awake in his room staring through the darkness at the devoid wall. The dark green curtains didn't permit any light to flood into the room. When Hermione knocked, Harry was sitting at the head of his bed, legs tightly drawn to his chest.  
  
Harry didn't answer Hermione, and so she entered, thinking he was still asleep. She saw Harry sitting in his bed, his dull emerald eyes wide with despair.  
  
"Harry? Another nightmare?" she asked softly.  
  
He nodded slowly. Hermione walked over to Harry and sat down by him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and placed her head on his shoulder gently.  
  
"The Dursleys. He killed the Dursleys," Harry said almost incoherently.  
  
Hermione raised her head and wiped away his tear. Strange, she thought, here's Harry crying for the Dursleys. Three people who easily fit into a list of people Harry despised, including Malfoy, Skeeter, and Fudge.  
  
"I fucking hate them but they're my family, Hermione. My only remaining link to my parents beside Remus and Dumbledore."  
  
Harry stared Hermione in the eyes. She could see his eyes dance with fury.  
  
"I'm just so tired," he said, almost in a whisper.  
  
Hermione nodded. She discerned little wrinkles that had made their way into Harry's forehead, the dark circles that seemed to impose upon his eyes, the under-eye bags that drooped onto Harry's high cheekbones.  
  
She didn't say anything but hugged him closer and rested her head on his shoulder once more. He followed suit and they sat in silence until-  
  
"Harry, mate, have you seen Hermione?" Ron stepped into the room, rubbing his half-asleep eyes. As soon as he moved his hands away, he stood stunned, confronted by the scene in front of him. It shouldn't have bothered him. It really shouldn't. And yet it did.  
  
"Found her," he said lamely. With that, he turned around and walked out of the room.  
  
Harry and Hermione pulled apart, and both their somber expressions were slowly modified into small grins.  
  
"Do you still love him?" Harry asked, hinting at Hermione's everlasting attraction, no matter how small it was before, to Ron.  
  
"I think so," Hermione replied with a perplexed manifestation.  
  
"Well, we'd better get ready. We're going to be late," Harry said, standing up. He reached over, gave Hermione a kiss on the cheek and walked off to the bathroom. He opened the door and turned to look at his best friend.  
  
"Thanks. And in case you care, I think he's starting to notice you as a female," Harry said tenderly. He winked then closed the door behind him.  
  
Hermione walked downstairs to discover Ron biting into what looked like a spoonful of butter. Under his right elbow lay a slice of bread. He hadn't seen her come in. She walked up to the counter and made some coffee. She took a seat directly in front of Ron. He ignorantly stared right past her head and at the stark white cabinets.  
  
It was only when Hermione pulled the spoon out of his hand and dumped the remainder of its contents on his flaming red hair did he recover from his stupor.  
  
"Prove to me that you care about me," Hermione requested Ron as he jumped up and stood at eye level with her.  
  
He looked at her for a while. Then, with a step towards her, he placed both his shaking hands on her cheeks and kissed her. Years later, Hermione would swear that she was floating on air at the moment.  
  
However, at that moment, she pulled away.  
  
"That's not enough Ron," she told him somberly, her eyes still closed. She opened her eyes and looked Ron in the eyes. She knew he wanted her, but she wasn't able to give herself to him until she knew it wouldn't just be a childish adoration, as Ron was so prone to. She picked up her bag and cloak and left the room. Ron still stood there, watching the closed door as he had the day before.  
  
"Ron, you ready? We're going to be late for the third time in two days!" Harry yelled, as he ran down the stairs.  
  
Ron nodded absent-mindedly and apparated.  
  
Harry got out of the elevator on the second floor once more and made his way into the cramped room. He went straight to the back to hear the updates for the day from Moody. It turns out he was a bit early. Only one other person was there – Moody.  
  
"Harry! Good. I've been meaning to speak with you," Moody growled. "You're to carry the burden," he said cryptically.  
  
"Burden of what?" Harry asked, slightly baffled.  
  
Moody studied Harry for a moment, then proceeded.  
  
"Sirius' innocence. Or rather, I want proof. And you're going to find it," he grumbled, in a very low voice. "The burden of proof," he added, not sounding quite like the usual moody Moody.  
  
Harry stared at the scarred man.  
  
"Wormtail's dead," he said quietly.  
  
"Constant vigilance," Moody repeated his favorite phrase. "Peter Pettigrew was spotted by the Greek Ministry. You are going there."  
  
Harry's hand shot up to his scar. He gritted his teeth against the pain.  
  
Harry cursed himself, thinking that he should have known that Wormtail would pull another disappearing act.  
  
"Alone?" Harry questioned.  
  
"No. Rouge, Dugarmon, and Skelin are in staying behind. We have other things to deal with here. Pettigrew is more of a personal issue, you understand," Moody replied. He observed Harry once more, furrowing what little eyebrow hadn't been blasted off.  
  
"Kalipso is to come with you, for defense. She was born there and knows the area."  
  
Harry's eyes gave off a little sparkle that was quickly dulled by a warning glance from the aging Auror.  
  
"You're leaving on Friday. The details are on your desk. Kalipso has the same package. Don't mention this to anyone else. Order members are aware. Don't be surprised if you run into a few of them there."  
  
Harry nodded obediently.  
  
"Professor," Harry called, still not being able to shake off that habit. "I had another dream," he said slowly.  
  
"The Dursleys are... dead," Harry hesitated. He watched Moody intently, but was incapable of reading the stoic expression.  
  
Then slowly, Moody nodded. "I'll pass on the message," he replied, in a slightly softer tone.  
  
Harry made his way to his desk and found a manila package on it. He opened it carefully and read.  
  
Potter, Kalipso.  
  
Friday, September 7, you will fly to the Apollo Inn in Greece. A hotel room has been provided already.  
  
You are to report every evening via Owl Post. Keep messages short and cryptic.  
  
You may return as soon as you have found Peter Pettigrew. Do NOT stray from the assignment.  
  
Harry finished reading and took out the remaining contents. Harry presumed these were for Oliana's sake. There was a picture of Pettigrew in his human form and Animagus form. Another sheet contained known habits of the rat, just some helpful details. Harry looked at the list he had helped to compile. He glanced over it and then watched it go up in tickling flames in his hand.  
  
Once the ashes disappeared, Harry picked up a second manila envelope and read through his current assignment.  
  
He blinked in surprise when he discerned the name on the page.  
  
Potter.  
  
Tuesday, September 4, you will accompany the senior Aurors to the interrogation of Lucius Malfoy, notorius Death Eater.  
  
Malfoy's father was caught? Harry thought surprised.  
  
It took him a while to register why he even cared. Not being able to discover an answer, he rose and moved to Tonk's cubicle.  
  
"Tonks?" he called the attention of the slightly-older woman.  
  
Tonks was sporting long platinum blonde locks today.  
  
"Trying to blend in at the Malfoy Manor?" Harry joked.  
  
"Actually, yes," Tonks grinned.  
  
"Malfoy has locked himself in the basement of his mansion," Tonks said apathetically. "His wife, however, is missing. I decided to get myself into Narcissa mode since that's how we're entering the premises."  
  
"Oh," Harry said, doubting it would be that easy.  
  
Tonks stood up, knocking over an inkpot in the process and pointedly ignoring it.  
  
"Let's go. We're meeting the Kingsley there," she said.  
  
They met with the rest on the outskirts of the Malfoy Mansion territory. The group consisted of only Tonks, Harry, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Seeing Shacklebolt once more reminded Harry of the time they rescued him from the Dursley's and it sent an unexpected jolt of pain through his heart.  
  
Apparently, Moody had not yet told the other members of the Order about their demise as they seemed oblivious. Harry decided to keep at that way, at least in the meantime.  
  
Tonks wasted no time taking on Narcissa's appearance. She entered the grounds with no trouble. Within moments, a cry for help was heard and amidst all the chaos, Harry found himself walking into a large room containing only a king size bed and a desk, both extremely luxurious. His shoes hit hard against the stone floor, he moved toward the other side of the bed. A full head of platinum blonde hair contrasted wholly with the black sheets it rested on. Harry felt a wave of pity come over him. His adversary stared at him with a glare that sent shivers up Harry's spine.  
  
"Get out," Draco Malfoy drawled in a manner that hadn't changed over the couple years.  
  
"You're coming with me," Harry stated.  
  
"Potter, the only way I'd come with you is if I lost full control of my body and sanity," Malfoy answered.  
  
"You can't stay here," Harry declared.  
  
"Oh, and are you going to stop me?" Malfoy demanded.  
  
"No."  
  
Harry paused for a moment.  
  
"You don't want to stay here," Harry told him.  
  
"And you would know?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Malfoy simply raised a groomed eyebrow.  
  
"Both your parents are gone. Everything will be confiscated by the Ministry. The house will be left in ruins," Harry replied calmly, perfectly aware of what had happened downstairs even though he wasn't there. "This is the last place you want to be."  
  
Malfoy rose to his feet indolently.  
  
"This is the only place I'm wanted," he glowered. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe to reveal his pale skin. "I didn't join the Dark Lord."  
  
Harry scrutinized the man who had been so strident in their years at school.  
  
Not quite hearing what he himself was saying, Harry opened his mouth.  
  
"You can stay with me."  
  
Malfoy snorted. Below them, a shout was heard, followed by a bang. Malfoy closed his eyes and swallowed hard.  
  
"You don't have much of a choice," Harry said warily.  
  
Malfoy breathed deep. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at the man he had despised for so many years. He glared and then walked out of the room. Harry noted some of his prior strut was gone. Harry took a deep breath and followed, loosening his grip on his wand ever so slightly.  
  
Hermione and Ron wouldn't be pleased with this arrangement at all. In fact, Harry knew that he wouldn't be either.  
  
-- 


End file.
